Book1: Her Early Life.

Caeruleus.

Tirdas 9th, Frostfall, 4E 180

A day has passed since that little incident occurred. Caeruleus had gone home sporting his new leg injury and his mother rushed to his aid. She immediately asked what had happened. He didn't say anything but her assumption was correct. Cicero.

That little bastard always manages to win a fight despite being twelve and Caeruleus himself being in his late teens. His mother frowned at him the disappointment clear on her face. He didn't care and still doesn't. He has to remind people who are wolves around here and who are the sheep.

They're one of the few nobles in County Anvil even fewer in the city itself. These people should be cowering and showing that they themselves are at the mercy of highborn. That's why he and some likeminded individuals do what they do to the commoners. They are beneath them.

An elder noble had once told him that Cicero's family; the Rubrums were a noble house. The thought of that hunter boy being noble blood made him laugh. He enjoyed and still does enjoy taunting and mocking him. At the wealth and status, he lost at how he must hunt and scavenge to survive.

Now as Caeruleus walked to Castle Anvil with a limp and newly acquired bruises from his father he smiled with satisfaction. He'll finally be rid of his "greatest" enemy.

The guards recognize him and let him through with little resistance. Once instead he fixed his posture and walked with a practiced stride. The one taught to nobility. Trying his best to walk this way despite the limp proved challenging but he didn't attract any unwanted attention from others so he assumes he passes well.

He stands before the Count of Anvil and demands: "I must have word with the Thalmor Justiciar immediately. I have news that will interest them."